


a tale of the faithful

by todreaminscarlet



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Book: Prince Caspian, Gen, Post - Prince Caspian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 08:56:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6417085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/todreaminscarlet/pseuds/todreaminscarlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>they've been waiting a millennia for the kings and queens to return - waiting patiently and silently, hidden in the forests and ravines, remembering without reminders, holding fast with just faith. </p><p>(their faithfulness is not without its reward.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	a tale of the faithful

**i.**

There is a story passed down through the generations, a story of two boys and two girls who came and freed a land with the help of a lion and who disappear, later, when everything had been shiny and bright.

They are a story. 

It’s a lovely story, told by rabbits to their litters and horses to their foals. _Even children are meant for mighty things_ , mothers tell their children as they drift away into sleep. _And we must be faithful, like they were faithful, and wait_.

 

**ii.**

The details are lost along the way.

There is just High King Peter and Queen Susan the Gentle and King Edmund and Queen Lucy.

Just distant names reminiscent of a golden time, of openness and freedom and joy, of war and struggle and victory. There are no faces to the names.

 _There never were those Kings and Queens_ , the Telmarines later say. _They abandoned us_ , the angry later accuse (and there is such truth in the anger that the faithful cannot argue except in silence.) There are just names.

 

**iii.**

_Aslan_ , they whisper across the white mountains and green valleys. _AslanAslanAslan_.

 _Did you know they used to see him?_ _Did you know he once was here?_ _Did you know the Mighty Four won because of him?_

 _Yes,_ someone responds. _That’s what the legends say._

 

 **iv.**  

 _They will come again_ , the story goes. _When they are most needed_.

How could we need them more, is what the faithful refuse to utter.

 

**v.**

_Aslan_.

 

**vi.**

High King Peter was brave and bold, kindhearted and jovial. He was the sun’s golden radiance and the favored, chosen king.

Queen Susan was beautiful and dedicated, gentle and tender. She was the peaceful, flowing breeze and the forever adored.

King Edmund was wise and witty, forgiving and fierce. He was the steady Narnian earth and Aslan’s redeemed.

Queen Lucy was bright and kind, unafraid and dedicated. She was the crashing waves and the human lioness.

(they repeat this until it is what every child knows. _these were your kings and queens_ , parents say. _remember them._ _remember them_. _do not forget them_.)

 

**vii.**

Later, when the kings and queens have come back again, not to restore the past but to establish the future, a badger says _I’m a beast, I am. We don’t change. And we beasts remember._

He doesn’t bother saying what came before, the steady repetition, the faithful recollection. It is not just that they remembered; it is that they refused to forget.

The kings arrive in a moment of desperation and reckoning, almost too late, and two sentinels (two badgers) greet them with two words: _at last_ , they say, _at last_.

( _we beasts remember_ , the badger says, and his kin answers: _we knew you would come._ )

 

 **viii**.

They remembered, Edmund thinks later, but what did they remember? That we were saviors, that our age was golden, that we were great.

 _We were just kids_ , he tells Susan, and she nods her head once, quickly, before turning away.

 _We didn’t know what we were doing_ , he reminds Peter, and he taps his left index finger on the table, once, twice, before saying, _but we tried our best_.

 _They didn’t understand how_ _hard_ _it was_ , he whispers to Lucy, and she brushes her hand through his hair, once, twice, three times, and whispers back, _but Aslan always came_.

 

**ix.**

Susan fingers the drawings on the walls and hears the disbelief in their voices and sees the joy on their faces and wonders how much was lost when they left, how soon it took for it all to fall apart.

 _Why do they hurt_ , she thinks, _when you could have come_?

 

**x.**

_I haven’t come to take your place_ , Peter tells Caspian from the start, and he believes it.

He is here to serve Aslan (after he failed to recognize him) and he knows this is not _his_ story. This is his service, his calling, his purpose—to fight and lead and remember, to offer strength and knowledge and hope after years of brokenness and pain.

 _I know who you think I am_ , Peter thinks, _and I am so much less_.

But they need him, all these his subjects, all these faithful, and he will be what they need him to be and will not forget that it is Aslan he serves. ( _His time, not ours_ , he tells them without a shred of doubt. _His purpose, not mine_ ).

He thinks of a plan and moves into action, like he has done for years, like he learned on the battlefields and in the castle halls of a millennia ago, and he tries.

 _I am High King Peter_ , he thinks, and the words are the protective, well-worn comfort of a heavy cape. _I am High King Peter, chosen by Aslan, and I haven’t come to take his place_.

 

**xi.**

They were not forgotten, Lucy wonders, and the sheer impossibility of this reality bewilders her.

Their friends are long gone, their castle sits in ruins, the trees are silenced, and the beasts are hiding—but they have not forgotten.

( _we remembered_ , the beasts tell her in the dark of the How; _we didn’t forget, we held on, we remembered_ , and she sees that this is their mantra, their faith, their hope.)

 _Thank you_ , she thinks to Aslan, for bringing us back for them; for reminding them, for honoring their faithfulness; _thankyouthankyouthankyou_.

 

**xii.**

Caspian is king, and they are going home.

Peter would be angry, but he is grateful—grateful to have returned, to have restored, to have looked upon this land of which he will always be king one last time. He has helped make things right, and this is his act of service ( _I will remember you always_ , he does not voice out loud. _I do not resent this burden. I will not forget you, I will always live as your king; I will remember, I will remember, I will remember.)_  

Susan is silent as they leave, her dark eyes peering over the joyful faces before them—they cheer for her, they remembered her, and her heart breaks for them, for the uncertainty that lies ahead, for the hope they see in her (and that she cannot see in herself.) _I did not see our King_ , she wants to tell them. _I cannot come again_ , she thinks and there is nothing she could say, no goodbye strong enough, no hope to offer them. _I am not brave enough for this_.

Edmund smiles and raises a hand as they stand in front of the crowd; he is clothed in the uniform of a boy, but his eyes shine out to the people, and they cheer for their king. _I will come again, if you need me_ , he wants to say, but he turns to look at Aslan. _If you call me_ , he thinks. _I will follow; I will follow; I will follow_.

Lucy’s lips are curved into a gentle smile and her face is covered in quiet tears; this is farewell, for now. This is trust and hope and goodbye and faith, and she will leave them, even as it breaks her heart. _I will not see you again_ , she thinks as she hugs and kisses their whiskered faces, but she smiles through her tears. _But you will remember me and I will remember you and Aslan will watch us all. I will be faithful._

 

**xiii.**

_There are kings and queens_ , the legends say, _that will come when they are needed_.

 _Yes_ , someone replies, _I saw them_.

 

**xiv.**

There is a story passed down through the generations, a story of two boys and two girls who came and freed a land with the help of a lion and who disappear, later, when everything had been shiny and bright.

They are a story.

It’s a lovely story, told by rabbits to their litters and horses to their foals. _Even children are meant for mighty things_ , mothers tell their children as they drift away into sleep. _And we must be faithful, like they were faithful, and wait_.

 

**xv.**

_We waited_ , the story ends, _and they came_.

**Author's Note:**

> a huge thanks to everyone on tumblr who wrote such wonderful things about the first part I published there. 
> 
> thanks for reading! come talk to me on tumblr @adaperturamlibri
> 
> (also the formatting for this was really funky this time, so I hope it looks okay on everyone's screens)


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